Lamenting
by TheBatKid
Summary: I didn't ever tell you. I didn't ever get to say, anything that I wanted to.
1. Chapter 1

Lamenting

I didn't ever tell you. I didn't ever get to say, anything that I wanted to. How I looked up to you, how proud you made me...but those are all just words, aren't they? Ravings of a man that regrets everything he's ever done, and mourns for everyone that has suffered and died. I was blind to you as a child and as an adult, it seemed my path clear to kill you and save our father's kingdom.

But I could have saved you.

I'm a murderer. I knew that I had a choice, I could've ordered you to serve prison time or forgiven you, but I let my cold heart take over. I filled my hunger for revenge...and it left a funny aftertaste. Bitter, disgusting – my own brother's blood on my hands. Even our father would not forgive me.

The people praised me, you know. You were a tyrant, Logan, nothing more and nothing less. You taxed them out of their last penny and forced them into squalor, but I understand why now. I made tough choices too – I destroyed Aurora – just to save these people. And I didn't even manage to save them all. How many lives did I destroy...?

You would've saved them all. You collected their money, horded it, and all the while I thought you were just being cruel and unjust. Why didn't you tell me about the darkness brother? I would have never left you, I would have never started this revolution, I would never have killed you my brother if I knew your cruelty had a reason behind it! I was never told...I was never told...

That has little meaning now. I understand that, at least. No matter how much I am praised, I still see a murderer when I look in the mirror. I blacked it out after a while; I couldn't stand to look at myself. Could you, Logan? Did you suffer the same as I did when you looked at yourself, and thought the same thing?

_Murderer, murderer, cold-hearted killer..._

Life is difficult to get through now. I wonder to myself if I will ever have children or a spouse, or retrieve those I already fathered, because I cannot allow myself to feel any sort of happiness. I feel the weight of responsibility since I killed you – I destroyed the last remaining part of my family when they cut off your head.

_Life and death, in a sweet dance of balance..._

So, why am I writing this now? The candlelight flickering, the moon shining through my window, and the people down below resting so happily when all I can do is weep for you. Your portrait I had displayed in my room; I fear I would forget your face if I had no reminder. Sometimes I think to myself about our father, and what he would say about this, and I wonder if mother would cry for you like I have done every night after my decision?

Logan, brother, king, friend...you were loyal to your people. You tried to save that money, you tried to be a good king but all they saw was a tyrant. All I saw was a tyrant. I was so blinded by the hope that I could save Albion, and replace you on the throne; I never stopped to think why you turned like this. I never stopped to think that you regretted killing her...

It is all said and done now. You are dead. I am living. And I promise you this, my brother, on my heart and soul I promise you;

Every day that passes I shall be plagued by your death.


	2. Oh Brother of Mine

If I remember, as children, you used to be my best friend. You were the one who came to me when I was scared and protected me whilst our father was wrapped up in his adventures. Mother was dead and you were my surrogate...I remember when he returned to find us playing a game of "Kill the Balverine." He was so happy that you taught me to kill them; he gave you that silver key and made you promise to keep it forever. I found it, and took it from you, not knowing the meaning behind it.

I never knew that you could have such depth in your character. I was young and reckless – I saw everything in black and white and did not consider that it could just be a varying shade of grey. I wanted to believe that I was the hero that this world needed, and when Theresa fuelled my ego, I felt like the world was calling me to the throne. Now I understand why she chose me. It was because I was like father when he was young; I was showing promise and she knew I held his powers in my blood. You took more to mother – black hair, tall, and a facial structure just like hers.

That might be why father favoured you during our life. He missed mother, he wanted to remember her and you were the closest thing. That's why I became so close to Walter and now...he has died too. Could I not protect anyone from the darkness? No one I loved seemed to survive; only those I met on the way, and Jasper.

I remember the first thing that you taught me to do. Shooting chickens from 300 yards away. You told me that that man – Reaver – had done it once when he came to the castle and you had perfected the technique. You do not realise how much that helped me during the revolution...during the time when I was slaughtering your guards and destroying the old quarter. I managed to shoot one from six hundred yards away, Logan, I guess I win. I was waiting for the day I won against you.

I plan to visit you tomorrow. Not you, obviously, but your grave. I had to move it from the royal graveyard for fear of vandalism, and now it is a trek to go and visit you. It helps clear my head though, the smell of the sea air and the view of the tattered spire far off in the distance. Sometimes I wonder if I went there, and wished for love, you would return to me and father would appear. I fear he is watching now and you two stand together, waiting for the day I come to join you so that he can yell at me.

The residents of Driftwood do not even know you are buried there. They don't know that I travel there every month just to visit you, and not to 'check up' on them. I care for them of course but I feel that it's my only way to contact you, when I go to your grave and see your name written on that hidden plaque. I cannot believe it's almost six months since I beheaded you and refused you the royal funeral, just to please these people.

I wish I could take back everything I said Logan. I wish I could take back leaving that night with Walter and Jasper, and the hatred I spread in your people. I wish I could realise that the only reason you killed her was because you wanted to prepare me for the harshness of the world.

And you regretted it, I know. I bet you sat in your room and replayed the death thousands and thousands of times. I found the old scrap of paper, written on it a hundred times;

_Killer of the innocent, tyrant of the people, death to the King, death to the King!_

I never wished for you to feel like that. I just assumed that you were happy to hate yourself, and happy to refuse the people their basic rights. I guess...I guess I was too young to understand...maybe that's why people are dead now...

I will remember you every day of my life, oh brother of mine.


	3. Sleep has Left

How could I ever have a restful night's sleep when your face stays in my memory? How can I relax when I see your pleading eyes right before you died? The memories haunt me like a lingering ghost, following me whenever I wander these halls in the dead of the night, whenever I return to that room I decided to leave all those years ago I remember you so strongly.

These portraits and outfits you left behind are my only reminders of you now. The people burned your statues and your memories, happy to be rid of you, but my brother I beg for just one shred of you to remain safe from their harmful ways. I wish our father were here to take care of me as I mourn for you, or for our mother's soft touch as I cry in your memory. I've lost my whole family and I'm trying to keep my head above the water as I drown myself in my own sorrows.

And so I just drink my beer and wine and cry alone. These empty halls and quiet halls, my desolate throne room and my barren treasury filled with shiny golden coins – they mean nothing to me now. They are covered in blood and destruction whenever I look upon them, and no amount of cleaning or redecorating can make that disappear. At the end of the day, when the servants have left, and the world has gone to sleep, I am all alone. Without a brother, a mother, a father, children or even a spouse, I am just one single King that has been left in this place by everyone. These walls are now my prison...

So why do I continue to write to you? When I speak to your tombstone, I find no words come out; instead my mouth dries and stops me from telling you exactly how I feel. If I burn these letters will they reach you? Have you read my sorrow and just chosen to ignore my pleas and my upset, or do you just not forgive me? I wish that I could take back every word said and every deed done against you Logan, but please put me out of all this misery!

Aurora hates me due to the fact I followed your footsteps, and removed them from my guard whilst we mined them for all of their precious materials. I am disgusted with how much of a hypocrite I am, when I cast you away from peoples gaze with mentions of your cruelty and injustice, but then I go and kill the people of Aurora, sending them to their death while making them work for me.

Send me a message, a sign or an end, because I cannot take anymore of this guilt.


	4. Days are Passing

I strolled into the Old Quarter today. It seems odd as the last time I was there; I was destroying your forces and killing the men you recruited to keep order. I am inclined to say that it looks far more admirable than it did when you were in power, but still it holds all those old memories and nightmares that fail to leave me. Jasper says what I did was for the greater good and that you would understand if you were in my shoes – I would feel better if it weren't for the fact you were in my shoes and you chose to do the right thing. You chose to save those people.

They litter the streets now. The people you could have rescued are lying dead in the gutters and alleys of Albion, lifeless as the stones that they rest on. Cleaners have been working day and night to clear them away and try to identify the dead, but very few are being declared and even fewer having decent burials. You would have this sorted by now.

Older brother please come and guide me. Teach me the value of your sacrifices and tell me how I am supposed to rule this country when all I want to do is tell them what a hypocrite I am? If I could redo this revolution I would have come to you and told you what the people were planning! I would have saved you! The only person I could have ensured the survival, and I killed you myself! How am I supposed to face them when I am just a villain in disguise?!

People are celebrating my 2 year anniversary tomorrow. They're expecting me to marry a beautiful woman soon and father an heir to our great throne; can I ever ensure a capable heir? The last person to sit on the throne with an untainted rule was our father and even he started out with the strands of poverty.

"Keep your chin up sir, the world is a beautiful place if you just look at it correctly," that's what some nobles have been telling me, before informing me they have single daughters or nieces that would just love to meet my royal-self. They're only interested in renting out their family member's wombs in exchange for an elevated social status. They're not interested in my pain.

The world is not beautiful, is it? Everywhere there is poverty, hardship, famine or injustice. Every little corner of every little street holds its dirty little secret. No matter how hard a family tries to cover these secrets up or how hard they deny the secret completely, they have it niggling in their mind and converting their thoughts no matter what they do. Illegitimate babies, spoiled affairs, disastrous pasts – the truth will always sneak up on them and remind them whenever they feel at their most comfortable, and that is what's happening to me.

I will always remember your sacrifice, even if no one else does. I will cover them up as our dirty family secrets although they were the noblest causes I had ever heard of. If people ever discovered that I killed my only brother because of spite, they'd lose all of their misguided trust in me. I can't have them Kingless when they've been through so much already.

I hope you will forgive me someday brother – I'm still waiting for your sign.


	5. The 'Traitor' King

I found your journal today...I can't get it out of my head. The hundreds of torn papers screaming at yourself, cursing your very life, blaming God for all of the misdeeds you've been forced to do. I know that you are in a better place, my brother, but I do not think even death could rid you of this self-loathing. I must re-write the paper I could make out, for documentation, so that when I die and people find this book they will see what a deceitful liar I am.

**Logan's Journal**

Today has been hard. I saved a further thousand coins for the treasury, but the people who gave me those coins are full of hatred for me. I am their King; I would rather see Albion burn than give it away, because if I did then it would burn anyway. The Darkness is making its sluggish way towards my beautiful home and I cannot do anything to stop it, only to save my people...the people that loathe me.

I have done something no man should ever have to do. Condemned my brother's girlfriend to death, and now I am riddled with this guilt that I cannot seem to shake. I try to tell myself over and over that I gave him a choice but then what else could he have done? Let those people die? I am the murderer here, and now he has left this castle, off into a world he does not know and into the arms of civilians who would kill him just to see my suffering. What have I done to my little brother? Father, forgive me if he perishes, I did not mean for it to happen.

As I stand here now, staring at the painted portraits of him as a baby, I remember the fun times we had together. The long summer days where we would sit outside and play amongst the green grass, and our newly-crowned father bringing back wonderful trinkets from his adventures, and the hard winter nights when we would sit outside and watch the world go by. We would be yelled at if the servants realised we were not in our beds but we did not care; the beauty of a slowly-growing Albion was too alluring for us to deny.

When my father brought him home, I thought that the world had blessed me with a gift. Finally, instead of being alone in the castle everyday when he was off on his travels, I would have someone who was in the very same situation as me, and we could play together. For years I taught him how to sneak past the cooks to get the highly sought-after treats and perfected his shooting techniques. I never thought that I would one day be cursed again to walk these lonely, empty hallways in the middle of the night, without a friend in the world who would understand my pain and sorrow.

I order the maids to keep his room tidy and fresh, maybe I am hoping he is going to return to me but I know in my heart that he will not. The fire crackles now in this large room like he was sleeping in it...like none of this had happened and he still loved me. My dear, dear brother, what have I done to you?

I find that sleep in an essential I simply cannot have now. The dark circles around my eyes grow every day and I fear that I look vulnerable to the people. It would be better from now on if I send my guards out, although it leaves me in this castle to sit alone and ponder the thousands of places my last family member could be.

Walter, please dear God keep him safe from harm. I know you are not fond of me anymore, friend, but he has done nothing to you. He needs to be kept under a watchful eye – he's too young to be out there fighting Balverines and bandits and God-knows-what else. If you can somehow hear my pleas, or have the slightest sense of my suffering in your mind, please just do not let him die in the wilderness that is Albion...he's all I have left...

The sun is slowly filtering through the purple curtains, flooding the desk with a radiance I have not appreciated in a long time. Every time the sun rises on a sleepless night I usually curse at it and beg it to disappear for a few more hours, just so I have more time for rest. However now, I urge it to hasten, as one new day brings with it a new hope that my brother will return to me.

God give me strength. I cannot carry on like this.

Signed, Logan – the traitor-King.


	6. Mind's that Break

**Logan's Journal – Entry II – Final Entry**

Please return to me brother. Please, come back home now. The halls are deafeningly silent, my life is empty and all around me I can see only darkness. Return to me, return to this castle – if nothing else return for the people that need a beacon of hope from me; a future monarch that they can be proud of and respect. Just come home and be safe, baby brother.

Every day I forget that you have left. I forget that you hate me. I even forget that I killed your only love, and for a moment I can stand to look at myself. Then I remember my deeds and I can feel my hatred coming back, my soul-crushing distain for my own life and start to let my anger take control. How many people have I killed out of my fury?

Please, just come home. Father, mother, lead your baby back to his home and back to my arms, so that I can envelope him in warm safety. Please my parents...just please put me out of my misery. Protect him to the best of your abilities and return him to me. I need to see my baby brother's face once more...

I can feel them laughing at me. I can hear the jokes they say in taverns and inns. They all think I'm crazy – they think that I'm going mad – but they don't understand. They just don't understand. YOU TRY AND DO WHAT I DO! YOU TRY AND LOOK AT THE END, KNOWING THAT YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! I DARE YOU TO STARE DEATH IN THE MOUTH AND THINK OF ALL THE LIVES BEHIND YOU!

My mind is breaking. I can feel the cracks forming in my psyche. The loss of my brother and the respect of my people has finally started to take its toll on me and it seems that I'm about to drop from exhaustion. I do not know how I am still going, maybe with the hope that things will change soon, but I can feel the Darkness breathing down my neck. My people's glinting gold and shiny trinkets will do little if I cannot even lead my men into battle. This will end me.

Will he ever be by my side again? Will I see his face before I die? Will he come back and fight the battle that decides his people's future? I hope not – I hope he will be somewhere warm and safe and dry, where the Darkness will not be able to wither. I hope that he realises how much I miss his voice, even when he has just woken up and he is filled with venom for the morning.

One day, brother, you won't be the prince. You will be the King. You will have to lead people through your share of trials and wars, but I pray to everything that has not turned away from me, you will never face something so evil and cruel as the Darkness.

Return, baby prince. Return and save me from myself.


	7. My Stars and Poisons

I picked out a star for you today. It was not as shiny as the others and it wasn't closest to the moon, but it reminded me the most of you. Because that star is the furthest away from us and yet, I can still see a slight bit of its radiance when I look up at it. It gazes down at me still, despite being so small and so insignificant, and it twinkles every now and again in the black belt of night. You are a star now Logan. You are that star.

I roamed the halls last night in search of a sign. I found odd things – diamonds, emeralds, generally rare jewels and trinkets I care nothing for – but I felt heavy. I felt, every time I picked up another gemstone, that it was weighing me down. Maybe the responsibility is crushing me – maybe I'm about to crack under the pressure. I wish there was a way I could run and hide, where people would not know me and would not care to know me. If there was such a place I would surely go there and spend the rest of my days in anonymity, rather than stay here as a false war-hero.

In my mind, it would be by the sea. The fresh winds would caress my face every day whenever I stood atop a cliff, looking down at the jagged rocks below, and the sweet hushed whispers of the ocean waves would beckon me ever closer to them. The sun would shine down happily until, by chance a storm clouded over it and caused the world to be plunged into darkness; something that would resemble my blackened heart on that day. The lightning would strike the hardened earth like an angry farmer in winter and the thunder would rattle the windows and the brickwork of every house in the street, whilst a raging tempest began to grow and grow until it became something out of a nightmare.

Forgive me, I did not mean to get so carried away. I find that everything I once thought about now has a storm growing inside of it, something sinister and evil, but they may be our lord's way of punishing my selfishness. The beautiful shining sun and the glistening pea-green water of the sea are lost to me, even when I look down upon them.

Do I have something constructive to say today? I do not think so. I think that my rage has been well-spent today when I was forced to execute some treasonous people. I don't blame them of course; I admired their spirit and their courage to go against me. A false-hero does not belong on the throne and that is exactly what I am doing.

Oh God can I not stop my murderous ways? Will I ever be free of the bloodshed? Whenever I look down at my hands all I can see is lakes and rivers of dripping blood running off them. I see the innocent life's that I have killed, the families and the friends who have suffered all because of my stupid rebellion, and still I am not able to mourn the loss of my innocence?! Will these people ever leave their King to suffer in silence, and cease their incessant howling and begging to be more than they already are? God damn it; I am the King! They will leave me or they will feel the Headman's axe, I swear it on my brother's ashes!

...What have I become? What am I? I look in the mirror and I can see a man, but inside I can feel a monster. It's becoming larger with each passing day, your voice screaming in my ear every second I am awake and I cannot stop it!

_Destroy the Kingdom with your lies; no one will see a Devil disguised..._

My Lord I am weak. Take my soul, please, just take it and grant me some peace in the fiery depths of Hell. I thought you were forgiving and loving? Isn't my memory of those lives enough?! When will you let me free?! When will you release me from these earthy chains?! If you want my blood you can have it, just please end my suffering!

There are options, Logan. I could...speed up my demise. I've heard of valuable poisons that are not detectable in the human system, and they're nearly impossible to detect in any foodstuffs. Maybe I could buy one of them and slowly administer it when my cooks are working? It would be such a relief to know that something was in the works, and that I would not have to suffer these injustices I've caused.

I will buy them on my next walk. The man in the back alleyway – Bernard – he'll be able to contact the people and get me the poisons.

God help me, I cannot carry on like this.


	8. The New Traitor

I can hear them. They grow closer to me with every passing day. Voices, whispers, taunts – I can feel them burning into my soul and destroying my very being. Forgive me Logan! Please forgive me! Put me out of my misery! I do not deserve to breathe the air, or hear the sounds of Albion! I deserve death and pain!

Why do you curse me with your silence? I need your guidance and you are quiet! I need you to show yourself and tell me what I must do to end this world! The poison...it was a fake. It was a con to try and gather money off of the ailing and the suicidal. How could I have fallen for such an obvious scam? I am blind to everything I once held so dear Logan, and you still let me walk this earth! This punishment is too much; all me to serve it in pain!

I dream about the three-pronged trident of the Devil as the singing demons scratch the flesh away from my body. His monstrous grin and burning glare are nothing compared to this. The eternal fires of Hell are merely candles when they are put against the fires of guilt and treachery in my heart. His demons pale against my own demons, who sing and chant about your execution every day, brother.

_The world is dead and you are alive, how many lives will you deprive?_

So many hours have been spent in agony. So many days have been wasted at the bottom of a wine bottle. So many years will be toiled away...what do you see in letting me go through this? Are you angry at me, Logan? I understand that you think my mind should crack the way yours did, and I understand that the people should see how fragile their King truly is. When you were breaking, you sent guards to do the work and that made you seem weak in their eyes.

You were not weak. You were clever. You were brave. You were fearless. You were their King. And you were my brother.

You were everything...

And now, you are dead. There's nothing I can do to take that away and there is nothing I can do to correct my mistakes. You are dead, buried, and gone from this world to receive your rewards in the next. I will receive nothing material when I die – I will receive the comfort of knowing that the living nightmare I am forced to walk in is completely over. Maybe I will see you, happily sitting with our father drinking his favourite drink, before you disown my soul as your relative and our Lord casts us down into the fiery pits of Hell.

My mind is no longer sufficient. I know people are reading it. They can see that I just simply do not know what to do next, and they can tell that these beautiful walls and well-painted portraits are simply a facade for the madman hiding behind them. These golden-tinted tapestries and purple satin banners are nothing but a front; a face for them to cling onto and be proud of rather than an actual portrayal of what I am capable of.

One day they will realise they have no need of me. The revolt will hopefully be swift and my execution painless, although I know I do not deserve to feel no pain in my death. I know you did. You felt the pain of betrayal and the pain of death...oh Logan, how could I have done this to you? How could I have done this to my own family?

I think I shall go and get a new tattoo tomorrow. Something to show how disgusting I feel, but underneath my clothes. Then...then I can maybe have a fraction of the marks I left against you.


	9. Heart-songs

_Of blackest night_

_And darkest dawn_

_Of strongest mind,_

_And brutish brawn._

_I live for you,_

_Though gone you are,_

_My mind is turned,_

_To lands afar._

_Your adventures, your wit_

_Nothing can prepare_

_For the evil world_

_You'll experience out there_

_The anger, the hatred,_

_The friend's you'll lose_

_Those that care,_

_A clever ruse._

_You'll cry and beg_

_You'll suffer for them_

_Your innocence is now_

_An Opaque gem._

_Remember, my brother,_

_Remember my face,_

_When you come back,_

_And return to this place._


End file.
